Durmstrang Stalker
by SisterGryffin-SisterSlytherin
Summary: Set fourth year Hogwarts.  A Durmstrang is determined to find himself a slave or two for slaves while at Hogwarts.  DISCLAIMER - The main characters of this book are the exclusive property of J. K. Rowling and belong to her fantastic wizarding world
1. Enter the Stalker

Author's Note: Setting is 4th year, just after selection of the Tri-Wizard Tournament Champions.

WARNING TO OUR REGULAR READERS! This story will be much more graphic and sexually explicit than other stories we have published (Could not get the M+ rating to register when starting this story!)

-.

Ron leaned on the railing of the high bridge that spanned the distance between the castle and the owlry at Hogwarts. He was in a right foul mood and he was firm in his belief that he had every right to be pissed off. Every right in the world…!

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, his supposed best friend; what a glory hound he was! He had all the fame and glory a bloke could ever want, and what did he do? He goes and puts his name into the Goblet of Fire to get chosen as a Tri-wizard champion! He tried to deny that he liked the limelight, the glory and the fame, but getting chosen as a never-before fourth for the Tri-wizard Cup just intensified all the attention Harry was getting. Maybe Draco Malfoy was right, he constantly was saying that Potter refused to stay out of the focus of the public eye and just loved all that attention.

He glared down into the gorge, eyes focused on the stream far below that glimmered in the sunlight as it merrily danced its way down the riverbed. Someone watching might have thought that Ron believed as if it was the fault of the water somehow that he was so pissed off and that it could put the situation to rights again. He wasn't speaking to Harry, hadn't had a civil word with him since the prat had put his name in that cup. And he damned sure had no intention of doing so. All Harry said was how he was innocent, like Ron was supposed to believe that…?

Unfortunately Hermione wasn't speaking with Ron either. She didn't have a clue as to why he was so angry and he was just tired of explaining it to her. He'd tried to explain time and time again but she kept coming up with the same arguments; why would Harry do such a thing? Ron simply didn't have the patience to keep trying to explain, so he felt like right now he really didn't have any friends at school. It'd already been over a week since he'd talked in a civil tone to either of them and it had been a damned lonesome time.

His brothers, Fred and George, weren't any help at all. The twins were being absolute prats; they thought the entire situation was a lark and kept finding ways to make money off it all. And they were constantly reminding EVERYONE that Harry was not only the Chosen One, but a TriWizard Champion… and laughing at Ron every chance they had.

The worst of it all was that Victor Krum… at one time he'd completely idolized the man; thought he all but walked on water, with his Quidditch expertise and skill level. It hadn't taken very long for him to realize that he was just a teenager just like Ron. He had noticed that after only two days at the castle that pumpkin-headed Krum was following Hermione all over the damned place. The Bulgarian's constant pursuit of the girl that Ron hoped to someday date or maybe even marry had really gotten on his nerves…! He had a poster of Krum on his wall at home; he was going to rip it down and shred it when he got back, and then burn the bits left over.

"Excuse, please…?" A smooth male voice with a Bulgarian accent spoke near at hand.

Ron ignored him a moment, but decided better of it. If the speaker were Victor Krum, he'd gladly take the chance to take out his anger on someone…! He turned; tensing to throw a punch but saw immediately it was not Victor Krum. Victor was dark, swarthy, and thickly muscled but this young man, who seemed to be the same age as Victor, was blonde, tall, and had light brown eyes. He was muscular, yes, all the Durmstrang students who had come were muscular, but this fellow was strong without looking overly thick in the same Neanderthal way that Krum did. Ron didn't care; he was from Durmstrang School and therefore a great and easy target to snipe at. "What the bloody hell do you want?" He growled, scowling at him.

"I am seeing you alone out here much, lately." The young man said; his smile showed he was completely unruffled by Ron's attempt to intimidate him and have him leave. He moved to the rail as well, leaning on it with his own elbow about a foot from Ron's. "Always alone, you are."

"Who gives a bloody damn? What business is it of yours? Maybe I like to be alone." Ron growled, but with less vehemence, turning back to stare out at the gorge as well.

"I am alone too, but I am not liking to be." The Bulgarian said with a touch of sadness. "I have no friends here. Karkaroff said they were not worthy to come…"

"And what do you expect me to do about it?" Ron asked crossly. He wasn't really in much of a mood to be civil to anyone.

The Bulgarian straightened from the rail, giving a soft and reluctant sigh. "I think now is not a good time. You are in a foul mood. I am not wanting to be making you angrier; I think I will leave you…"

Ron realized this Durmstrang student was offering him only a hand in friendship, to have it slapped away by Ron's verbal assaults. He had no one to talk to, and if he chased this bloke off he'd have no one at all. This guy was better than nothing; he couldn't talk to Neville or anyone in Gryffindor right now and he was slowly going mad. He throttled his anger under control and sighed. "No… no, hang on…" he said, though he remained where he was, staring out at the water. "It's okay. I'm not all that pissed off, and… well, hell. I'd like to talk to someone for a while."

The Bulgarian introduced himself with a smart formal bow. "I am Gregor. Gregor Ptriov." He said.

"Ronald Weasley." He answered, glancing at Gregor, forcing a smile.

The Bulgarian gave him a very friendly and open smile in return as he leaned on the rail once more. "I am missing my school, Durmstrang." Gregor said, his tone having a clear tone of melancholy and homesickness. "It is so strange, here… your country…"

"Tell me what you miss about Durmstrang." Ron suggested. "Maybe it will help you to feel better." He was more than willing to allow himself to be distracted from his own situation, which only made him angrier by the day.

"Your country, it is so warm and all fog and wet… Durmstrang is not. It is bright, and crisp, and cold. We have new snow this time of year and white is all over the trees and world… We have large castle but different from yours; girls do not school with boys, not sleep in same castle. Girls have their own castle, towers to sleep in. I have three mates I room with, and all are left behind; only I am here…"

"Do you have Quidditch in your school?" He asked.

Ptriov chuckled, a deep throaty sound that was almost infectious. "Yes, of course we have Quidditch. Where else did Krum learn fly so well? He practices on our teams for Quidditch all the time."

"Krum." Ron growled, one hand closing in a fist and his body tensing. His body language was not lost on Gregor. "He's a self-important prat." Ron grumbled, thinking of the argument he'd had with Hermione that had sent him to the bridge to sulk today.

He had seen Krum a lot in the past week, but now he was sure the Bulgarian seeker was very interested in a relationship with Hermione. He showed up everywhere, making excuses to be in the same room with Hermione even though his little entourage of five or six giggling girls from Hogwarts and Beauxbatons was always following him about. He always made a point to say something to Hermione too, and Ron hated the look of interest she always wore when listening to the idiot. He hated Krum because he had interest for Hermione, and because she seemed to be interested in him. Since Ron hadn't had the nerve to ask her out yet, it made him angrier than ever that Krum seemed not to have any such problems. Just this morning, in fact, Ron had warned Krum off and told him to get lost and leave Hermione alone. Hermione had overheard and blown up at him, then stormed off to the girl's tower where she knew he couldn't follow. He'd tried to get her to come down but she just wouldn't answer, so he'd come out here to think… and sulk.

"You are not liking him?"

"No. I don't like him." He grumbled.

"I am not liking him either since he joined the National team. He has become… how do you say…? Arrogant..."

Ron only grunted his agreement.

"But I am liking to fly, and I am liking Quidditch. I saw plaque in school… you are not on team, but you have brothers on team?" Gregor said, gazing out at the sky.

"Yeah, the twins. George and Fred are fifth year, and they're beaters." He said, sighing. "I haven't tried out for the team yet. I love to play, though. I practice every chance I get. Ron found he was beginning to relax, warming to the conversation more than the Bulgarian himself. It was just so damned nice to be able to talk to someone without worrying about being judged. And he'd been so lonesome this year…

"It is glorious, to fly." Gregor agreed.

"You have a favorite Quidditch team, Gregor?" Ron asked.

"Yes, but… you will be laughing at me." He said as if this was a common occurrence. "My friends all watch Krum playing and think I am fool not to want to watch too."

"Why would I laugh?" Ron asked.

"Is not Bulgarian team I am liking… Is underdog team, but will win; will win soon…"

"So who are they? Spill it already." Ron couldn't help but half-grin at this guy's vehemence over his favorite team.

"Chudley Cannons." He said with a half-grimace.

"That's my favorite team!" Ron said immediately to Gregor's surprise, his anger forgotten for the moment, quite enthusiastic. The conversation between the seventeen-year-old Bulgarian and the fourteen-year-old Englishman quickly became a discussion of their favorite players and their moves on the Quidditch pitch.

After that afternoon chatting with Gregor, Ron found himself wandering to the bridge every day. And to his delight, his new friend showed up every day.

The first day they chatted on the bridge, but the second they wandered through the great halls as Ron showed him the sights of the castle. Their conversations always drifted to Quidditch somehow; but Ron was quite all right with that. It was a subject he knew quite a lot about, and was rarely wrong. He knew the players, their stats, and many other details; and Gregor seemed quite interested in learning and listening to what he had to say.

He found it soothed his wounded pride and made him feel better overall. He found that with each day he was less angry, having something to look forward to. Nonetheless, he took savage pleasure in snubbing both Hermione and Harry daily to go spend time with his new friend. It felt right, and he was really getting to look forward to meeting him every day.

Blaise frowned, halting as he and Draco were exiting the great hall. He reached out and caught Draco by the arm, eyes on the top of the stairs, where Ronald Weasley was coming down with a Durmstrang student, the two chatting like old friends. "Hey Draco… who the hell is that?" He murmured softly.

Draco had long known of his best mate's long-standing crush on the redheaded boy, but the sexual preferences of the boy were also well known. Weasley had expressed a pure and very straight sexual preference, and anyone who had eyes could see how much attention he paid to that mudblood Grainger even when he was ignoring her as he seemed to be doing lately. Any approach and offer of sexual partnership with a male would have met with a shocked denial at least. Blaise preferred to simply watch and see if there would be a chance for him sometime in the future.

Draco looked, and shrugged his shoulders. "It's obvious he's one of the Durmstrang students. I'm not sure who he is."

"He seems to be great friends with Ron." he said softly, jealousy clearly underlying his tone, his eyes narrowed. "How the hell did he manage that?"

The blonde glanced at his best mate. "Even you've noticed that the Weasel hasn't been around Potter or Grainger lately." He reminded. "I've seen him up there on the bridge, muttering curses at that stupid river for hours. He's been so pissed off at the world in general because Potter was chosen as a Tri-wizard Champion." Draco said, rolling his eyes. "You know, Blaise; this might be the perfect time to get him talking to you, too. After all, that bloke got him talking and surely you have more in common with the Weasel than he does." Draco suggested thoughtfully. "Or maybe that bloke would talk to Ron for you. Take a look at his badge. He's in the house they have that's the same as our Slytherin…"

"That's a thought, I'll… I'll think about it…" Blaise murmured thoughtfully as he watched the two stop on the stairs a moment. He felt jealousy rise within his heart, a cold yet very familiar feeling when it came to anyone chatting with the red-haired boy. He could see clearly the little gestures and hear in the tone of the Durmstrang boy an air of seduction. Weasley was either completely taken in or had no idea it was happening to him; most likely he had no clue. He had not even noticed anything when Blaise had talked to him the few times he had worked up the nerve, so the redhead probably had no clue. But it was also clear that it wouldn't be long, if he read what he saw right, before something happened between the two. And Blaise couldn't stand the thought of that.

Gregor looked over, seeing the two Slytherins watching him and Ron; he flashed them both his most charming smile. He knew damned well he was handsome and that dark-skinned boy was watching them both very closely. Both those two were quite beautiful too; his time here at Hogwarts really would be an enjoyable one if he played his cards right.

The teachers, especially Karkaroff, were far too busy watching Krum to pay any mind to what games he might be playing. Before it was time to leave here he intended to have at least one and perhaps two new little slaves to tend to his needs, begging their parents to transfer just to share time with him.

Ron glanced at the time. "Oh bloody hell; I gotta go, Greg… See you at dinner again?"

"My pleasure, my friend." Gregor smiled, and then leaned on the stair railing to watch Ron leave, hurrying up the stairs to get to the third floor. He couldn't wait to get hold of that bum…

Blaise glanced at Draco, making up his mind and gathering his courage. "I'll be along…" Draco nodded and moved off, Crabbe and Goyle closely behind him like two protective monoliths.

He moved up the stairs toward the where the Bulgarian stood, still leaning with his back on the rail, watching where Ron had vanished to. "Hello." He began.

Gregor looked at him, his smile growing. These Hogwarts students were quite easy to get to, and the ones who approached him were so perfectly young. "Hello." He greeted. He liked them young.

"I…" he gathered himself. "I take it you're Ron's friend?" He asked softly.

"Yes, Ron Weasley is friend of mine. We are seeing each other every day, and will be having dinner together too." Gregor answered smoothly, detecting jealousy from this young boy. Ah, this boy would be a far easier target, if only he could draw him in. He'd worked on Weasley a full week and so far had no success in seducing the boy. Ron saw nothing of his carefully laid out seductions and he simply could not seem to get Weasley alone in a place he felt comfortable to make his move.

"I… okay. I should…" Blaise felt defeated; he had thought to make his move finally but it was clearly too late.

"Are you wanting to be joining Weasley and myself?" He asked slyly.

Blaise looked up at him, startled. Had it been that obvious? And had this young man really been with Ron, sexually…? "Um… yes… Yes, I would…"

"I shall talk of you to him. See what he thinks. Ronald does not feel open to much, if you know of what I am speaking…" he said suggestively. The jealousy now clear in this young Slytherins eyes made it clear to him; he wanted to be the redhead's lover and thought he was already "in", so to speak. He could use this, oh yes…

Blaise blushed a bit, and then nodded. "Yes… please do. I'm Blaise Zabini, by the way…"

"Blaise… a good, strong name. You are… how do you say, beautiful young man. I am Gregor Ptriov."

"Talk to him for me, would you Gregor…? I'd really, really be grateful…"

He was counting on that gratitude to get some pleasure of his own. "Is no problem. You are lonely; I can help ease loneliness. I am understanding …" he said, reaching to touch Blaise's hand.

Blaise hesitated, looking at the boy. Gregor was sending out clear signals that he was more than receptive to same-sex relationships. A quick relationship, no strings, was always welcome, a distraction from his constant longing to be with Weasley.

"You know of private place we can go…? To talk…" he suggested.

Blaise gave him a small smile. "Sure… let me show you the Slytherin locker room." He suggested. The two moved off, silent for a while as they walked. "Um… Gregor...? How did you meet Ron?"

Gregor smiled a very attractive smile. "Weasley needed a friend and I was there… we talked and now am friends. It is nice to have friend here." he said as they moved to the Quidditch pitch. Blaise led him on into the locker room, showing him about.

Gregor halted, catching a glimpse of some movement in a side room. He moved over to find himself looking at a life-size poster on the wall of Ron standing just outside a shower, steam billowing about behind him, laughing and body glistening with water, wrapping a towel about himself. The timing of the wizarding photograph gave no actual view of what was under the pink towel, just a glimpse of bare hip and thigh all the way up, quickly covered by the towel as the Gryffindor laughed. Gregor stared a long moment. "This is Weasley…?"

"Um…yeah." Blaise agreed, eyes lingering on the picture he'd put up to tease the team and they had insisted that he leave it there as a good luck charm. He thought half the damn team had a thing for Ron, too bad he was so damned straight…

"He should wear clothing that is fitting better to his body…" Gregor said, more determined than before that he would get his hands on that boy.

"That's just not what Ron does." Blaise said, sighing softly.

Gregor looked at the younger boy and reached to him, stroking a finger down his arm. "It is what I do. And I do more, Blaise… you help ease my loneliness…?" He offered, eyes lingering on Blaise's lips.

Blaise hesitated, looking up at the taller boy. Gregor touched his face, leaning in to give him a kiss. The younger boy did not shy away and he kissed him softly, not willing to push this too far just yet. He pulled Blaise's body against his own hard muscled one, keeping the kisses slow and very gentle. Oh yes, gentle for now. But he would soon do as he wished with no restraint, once he had this one where he wanted him.

A few kisses, a few little pets to see exactly what type of little slave this dark-skinned little Slytherin could be and he would let him alone, this time. He would bide his time; when he got the redhead in his bed it would be time to reel this one in as well. He would have two toys when all was said and done.


	2. Closing in on the Prey

Gregor and Blaise walked back toward the castle much later, Gregor quite satisfied and pleased with himself. "I talk to you later, no?"

"Yeah, sure. Will I be having dinner with you and Ron?" he asked hopefully; if he could get to know the Gryffindor maybe, just maybe…

Gregor shook his head. "Oh, no; I must being speaking with Ron about you first, yes? Build him up so you and he can being friends too."

"Oh, okay…" Blaise felt disappointed, but not too badly so. He headed inside, feeling hopeful. If being around Gregor could get Ron to unbend, then Blaise he had a chance to get to know Ron on a much more personal level. Maybe he could even break through the wall he'd seen for himself that Ron put between himself and every male in the school except for Harry. And he doubted that Harry and Ron would ever take their friendship to THAT level…

-.

Days passed.

Gregor continued to meet with Ron during the day, using every method he had in his considerable arsenal to seduce the boy. Every night he would meet with Blaise, cuddle a bit and kiss and fondle but he had not gone any further. He would have been content with the young dark-skinned wizard if the redhead had not caught his eye first. He could not help but think that it would be even better if he could drag the redhead into the situation; then he could reveal his true masochistic nature to these little boys and teach them how to be good little sex slaves. Once he had them turned, they would be quite obedient and would fight any efforts to be taken from him as his last lovers had been.

-.

Gregor and Ron enjoyed dinner out on the grounds, with several students and even teachers wandering about. It was still warm, and a pleasant evening to relax out beneath the shade of the trees with the castle framed against an azure sky dotted with clouds.

Gregor was growing impatient; he'd never had to work so hard to get someone in his bed before and he was growing tired of the effort he'd put into Weasley. Why wouldn't this boy see him somewhere private? He did not require the consent of the boy to take his pleasure; when he was done he knew that he would have everything he desired and Weasley would tell no one. If he did it well, the boy would beg for it to happen again.

"…and then he did the Wronski feint and oh Merlin it was genius…!" Ron was spouting about Quidditch again, not noticing that the older boy didn't look at all interested this time.

"I have idea." Gregor spoke up after Ron had finally wound down. They had long ago finished eating and put everything back in the basket Ron had carried out. "You have not been showing me the Quidditch pitch." He said. "Let us go there." He suggested.

Ron glanced at him. "We've been out there five times already. Nothing really changes out there, you know. And you told me you saw in the Slytherin locker room already…"

"I am wishing to see Gryffindor team locker room." He said as he put on his wolfish grin, his tone deep and suggestive.

Ron looked confused, not picking up the suggestion at all. "Why? They're all the same… hell, Slytherin's probably got a bloody hot tub in their locker room, and it's probably a lot nicer than ours."

"I am wanting to see. Wanting to see. With you." He said, putting as much sexual, sensual tone into the words that he could.

"Can't mate…not today." Ron said, rising to his feet.

Gregor looked stunned. Had Ron actually not heard him? "You are going? Already…? Is early, not to leave so soon…"

"Can't help it mate; I gotta go. I have a load of homework and its due tomorrow, I really have to get started on it or old Snape is gonna hex me…" he said, dusting himself off.

The older boy sat up straighter. "Is no problem, just bring homework and I will help. I have taken such classes already…"

"That's really tempting but no… no thanks. Hermione would never talk to me again if I did that, and she's pissed off at me enough lately…" he answered

"Ron, you must show me locker room…!" Gregor reached for him, catching his hand, eyes intense and angry, still seated but starting to rise.

Ron looked more confused, as well as a little angry and frightened. He snatched his hand back out of Gregor's grip. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you Gregor? I don't _**have**_ to show you the locker room. I don't bloody well have to do anything!"

"You will not be brushing me off, Ronald Weasley! You are seeing nothing; I will open eyes for you…!" He grabbed for him again and Ron dodged the older teen, taking several steps back.

Ron stared at him with an odd look, still backing off, well out of reach now and totally confused. "Look, I don't bloody well know what the hell's your problem right now but I'm not part of it. You really need to get off the caffeine or something, mate. I have to go." He said, moving away quickly.

Gregor scowled, watching him go, subsiding to a seat in the grass, his fists clenched in anger. He'd been quite intrigued by the young Gryffindor but had grown impatient waiting to get him. He'd plied the boy with wine, given him aphrodisiacs in his drinks, used every sexual trick to arouse or interest him, even tried to steer the conversation to sex.

He'd done everything except drop his pants in the young man's presence and really had gotten no reaction, no realization, nothing from him, at all. Ronald Weasley was either one of the densest young men he'd ever met when it came to sexual contact or he had one hell of a strong attachment to someone else.

His conversations with the boy had made it clear that he hadn't been with anyone, and that made him even more desirable as one that no one else had managed to touch. He could bend him to be what he wanted him to be… if he could only get hold of him… he'd moved too fast today. He sighed irritably and pulled a scrap of parchment from his robes and composed a quick note to Ron.

Ron – Mate. I do not know what came over me, please accepting apology from me for actions today. I do not want to being lose you for friend; I enjoy company of you and hope to stay friends for long time. Please to meet me tomorrow on bridge…?

Gregor signed the note, and then read it over before rising. He'd send the message and Ron had better be there… he was so gullible and forgiving he doubted the redhead would even think twice about not coming. He smiled to himself, planning. He had only to find a private place… Only two days until the first trial for the TriWizard cup. His conversations with Ron had led him to understand that the reason he wasn't talking with his friends was that this Harry Potter had put in his name as the fourth contestant.

Ron would soon be much more noticeable than Harry Potter, once Gregor had finished with him. He could picture in his head; Ron with a collar about his throat, wearing whatever Gregor deemed he should be garbed in that day. Smiling widely, he moved toward the owlry. He would not be able to reach Ronald but an owl always could. And tonight he had plans anyway. He was going to start working on his other mark, the young dark-skinned wizard…

Ron read the note, seated in the common room. He'd been really weirded out by the way that Gregor had acted… he wasn't sure what the hell the Bulgarian had wanted, but he was sure of one thing; he hadn't wanted any part of it. Gregor knew he'd been an ass and was apologizing; at least he knew it was wrong. Well, maybe… He glanced up as Harry came into the room through the portrait of the fat lady. He felt his hopes rise; it was almost torture not talking at all to Harry for the past several weeks…

Harry scowled at him. "What are you looking at?" He asked crossly; he'd been harassed by several people up the halls and stairs with "Potter STINKS" badges and wasn't in the mood for anything.

Ron couldn't help it; he immediately bristled back. "Not a bloody thing that means anything to me." He shot back, intending to hurt Harry's feelings, turning away from him, hand closing on the note, crumpling it in his fist..

"Doesn't surprise me much you're being such a twit." Harry snarled back at him. "You've been hanging around with that bloke from Durmstrang so much; you may as well transfer schools…"

"Sod off, Potter!" He snapped, not looking back at him, glaring at the flames in the fire. He wasn't about to tell him or let him know how much being snubbed by him and Hermione had hurt him.

"Gladly." Harry whirled and stormed up the stairs.

Ron glared after him, angry and having no way to vent it again. And he had to sleep in the same dorm room it was about to drive him insane. Growling, he got to his feet and stormed toward the entrance.

"Ron…?" Hermione's soft voice came from the top of the stairs.

Great; just what he wanted right now. "What, Hermione?" he asked sharply.

"Please tell me you tried…?" she asked from the entrance to the girl's dorm. "Ron please…"

He whirled, glaring at her angrily. "Why the bloody hell are you always harassing me to be nice to HIM? Why don't you harass HIM to be nice to ME?" Ron growled at her. "I'm not the only one who needs to think about what they bloody well say!"

"Ronald, please…" Hermione began.

"You can bloody well bugger off too!" He snapped, moving out of the room. He didn't care if he got in trouble; he was damned sure going for a walk. He needed to cool off and wear himself out so he could sleep in the same room with that glory-hog. If nothing else he would find a place to sleep down in the common room.

-.

Blaise, seated in the great hall, saw Ron stalk in and sit before one of the great fireplaces that lined the sides of the hall. He felt an urge to go talk with the boy, but his foul attitude made it clear he wouldn't accept any friendly overtures. He'd been snapped at enough by him. Anger wasn't what he wanted, not at all. He wondered what had happened.

He watched as Ron's foul mood chased off three Gryffindors who were just trying to help him; Ron snapped at them and they drifted off, leaving him to sit alone.

Draco nudged him. "Go on. He's there without the others. Even that Gregor fellow isn't about. Go. I bet he would really like someone to talk to…"

Blaise hesitated, and then shook his head. "Its not the right time, Dray, I can't. Not today…"

"If not today, then when?" Draco asked. "You've been waiting four years, mate!" he said in a slightly exasperated tone.

"For the same reason you don't approach the one you care for." Blaise answered easily, knowing Draco's secret crush which he would never reveal. "Besides, he's not in the mood to talk."

Draco smirked at that comment. "Talking isn't what you have in mind and you know it."

"Draco, hush!" Blaise smirked. His attention was drawn over to the redhead again when he rose and stomped out of the room, and Blaise half-chuckled. "See? Wrong time…"

"Maybe this time. But you never told me how it went with that Durmstrang fellow…"

"I'm seeing him tonight. He's… well, he's interesting…"

"You don't think he's actually BEEN with Weasley, do you?" Draco asked quietly; the other students were far enough away that no one would hear his soft question.

"I… he says he has but I don't know." Blaise said softly back.

"You've been seeing him a lot lately, haven't you, that Gregor?"

"Yes… but its nothing to worry about… he won't be here forever…" Blaise reassured. "You know where my heart lies, my friend."

"Yes, I know. Although I cannot, for the life of me, figure out what attracts you to the redhead…"


	3. The Stalker Strikes

AUTHOR'S NOTE: We know the first part of this chapter was on the last one, but it has been deleted and appended and updated... will add more soon. Just need to work out the kinks in a few things before we can post the next chapter. Life keeps happening and getting in the way...

WARNING - THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS BONDAGE AND NON-CONSENSUAL SEX SCENE.

Gregor stood in the middle of the bridge, just where he'd seen Ron that first day, leaning on the rail. Surely Ron wouldn't just leave him standing here, and not show up. Ron would come… he didn't think he had misjudged that young man so badly… He saw movement from the corner of his eye and smiled faintly, cheering his own cleverness. Ron had, after all, come to see him.

Ron moved to the rail also, intentionally leaving one of the pillars between them, staring down at the waters. He said nothing, feeling awkward and uneasy.

"I am sorry to be acting so odd." Gregor said after the moments of silence stretched. "I was having bad news from home; my brother is sickly and I cannot be returning until after the World Cup… I was wanting some comfort from you is all… we are very… physical… in our comfort in my country…"

"Oh… well… I guess that's okay…" Ron murmured thoughtfully. "I can understand that, but… well, I'm not into that. I just… its just not done here…"

"Of course it is. You are just not seeing it is done." Gregor returned. "You must being opening your eyes."

"I don't do it." Ron said. "Hugging and that… birds do that. Men don't do that."

"You have strange concepts of what is manly." Gregor smirked. "Manly is just you, doing what comes natural. Is natural to give love and have physical contact…"

Ron sighed, clearly sounding angry again. "That's why I'm so angry all the time… I WANT to do that…"

Gregor saw his opening and pounced on it. "You do…? I will gladly…"

"…with Hermione…!" He finished in a frustrated tone as if he had not even heard Gregor, not looking his direction, glaring off at the distant clouds. It might snow again this afternoon; the weather had taken another turn for the worse.

The Durmstrang boy scowled. "With Hermione…? But you do not wish to being with her…"

"I do! I just… I can't." He sighed, looking down.

Gregor allowed the silence to stretch again for a few moments before speaking again. "Iam seeing you are angered and tense again today…"

"After you and I… I mean, when I got back to Gryffindor tower I had a row with Harry… and with Hermione too." He sighed softly. "I feel like an ass today… I shouldn't have been so cross with them, none of this crap is really their fault…"

"If they are making you so angry all the time they are not truly being your friends. You need true friends like I am being good friend always here for you…" he said, moving around the pillar to stand close to Ron. Gregor had paid extra attention to his grooming for this particular meeting; he had made certain his hair was perfectly combed to show off its natural waves and he had donned his best silken shirt and tight fitting slacks. It was abundantly clear to his companions on the ship that Gregor was moving in for the kill. None of them were upset to see that, actually quite glad to not have to worry about him. He didn't care though; he wasn't interested in any of them. They weren't malleable enough for his purposes. He wanted young slaves to train to please his every desire.

As a final touch he had put on his special cologne, made for him at great expense by a witch back home. It worked with his body chemistry and only increased the attractiveness of the aroma the longer he wore it. He was certain it was laced with a love potion, for every time he wore it he always got what he was looking for from those he pursued. He wore it only rarely because each bottle cost over fifty galleons, but for hard cases like this Weasley boy it would be well worth the cost.

"You're a good friend, Gregor, but… I really…" Ron suddenly felt uncomfortable being near Gregor, feeling odd and slightly dizzy.

"We need to find place to be alone, place to talk. Always we are meeting where others are coming, always out in open, always where others can listen. I need to be talking to you Ron, private things, I need to talk to you…" he said softly, tone seductive, leaning in close to let Ron get the full effect of the potion and its almost narcotic effects.

Ron breathed deeply in a sigh, but Gregor was shocked to see the English boy shaking his head in refusal. "I just… I don't want to Gregor. I can't do whatever it is you're asking, I guess…"

Gregor ran his hand up Ron's arm, keeping his tone soft and seductive. "You can. Just let yourself go. Come with me to quiet place near lake. Talk with me Ron… I need to speak of my brother, to get you hearing me clear…" he was confused; his cologne had never failed him!

Ron simply stepped back, out of the range of his hypnotic cologne. "You know, Gregor, you need to talk to Karkaroff or someone else about all of that. I really couldn't tell you what to do and I don't have a clue how you feel; I have five brothers and I only barely get along with half of them. They're just a royal pain in the ass…"

"I am not wanting you to be telling me what to do, I am wanting you to be listening to me!" He growled, growing frustrated and letting his frustration show.

"I think I was right yesterday…" Ron said softly, taking another step back. He could see a tic starting to twitch just below Gregor's left eye. "Its just… I really have to concentrate more on my studies and get back to my classmates and you really need to be with blokes of your year, not some fourth year from Hogwarts…" he tried to explain how he was feeling, trying quite hard to get the feeling across without using hurtful words. He had no idea why Gregor was getting so totally pissed off, his hands even forming into fists.

"You must be listening to me, Ronald! I am liking spending time with you. You are…"

"I have to go." Ron said, moving away.

Gregor watched him walk away, eyes wide with disbelief. What the hell had just happened? This had never happened to him before…

-.

Blaise picked his way carefully down the steep path that curved around the lake. He knew where he was to go; he had met Gregor down at the cabin twice already. They had shared a few meals here, lunch once and dinner the next time but had simply talked and gotten comfortable with each other. Gregor had been easy to talk to and he seemed to be quite understanding of the situation Blaise found himself in. He seemed open and compassionate and kind, and interested in anything that Blaise had to say about Ron.

He paused, pulling the note he had received from Gregor just an hour ago had said that he would finally introduce him to Ron tonight. Maybe things would finally come together for the two of them; he had had a crush on the redhead since he saw him that first day on the train. It was clear to him that Gregor was homosexual; the way he spoke about Ron he had gotten the redhead to do more than just talk. He wasn't sure but he couldn't help but get his hopes up.

He slipped the note back into his pocket, turning his attention back to the trail. The snow had started to fall about half an hour ago and there was a light layer upon the ground again; the sky was dark grey and getting darker as the sun headed for the horizon. The snow was beginning to fall heavier and would soon cover his footsteps as he made his way down the path.

The cabin was built on a rocky outcrop behind the owlry and the path bad enough on a clear day but in the snow it was hard to see exactly where to put his feet to keep from slipping. Finally he could see the cabin ahead; it looked like a ramshackle little thing that was no more than an outhouse but was actually sturdy and roomy inside.

Someone had trampled most of the layer of snow on the ground that had fallen in the past hours; the size of the bootprint looked to be Gregor's. Was he pacing…? Something must be wrong.

He quickened his pace a bit, climbing over the difficult trail to get to the tiny hut. He knew he wasn't supposed to be so close to the forbidden forest; if he got caught he'd surely be in detention no matter what Severus did for him as a Slytherin. It would safe enough; the grounds were being watched so closely surely it would be all right.

When he opened the door he immediately noticed several things; the room was not the quaint little room it had always been before. It had always looked like a hotel room and there had been dainties and food to eat. Now it looked like a dungeon. Chains hung from the ceiling and several pillars stood in the center of the room with chains hanging from them. There was drink, yes, alcohol on the table of several different Russian varieties.

Gregor was dressed stunningly, seated on the throne-like chair beside the simple bed on the floor, one leg flung over the arm of the chair. He was dressed in a white silk shirt and tight black pants of the old style that sported a codpiece with a skull on it with glinting ruby eyes. He wasn't smiling; his expression was blank, his face like chiseled stone. He held a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand. There was something different about Gregor tonight…

He stepped in to glance about and look for Ron; he did not see him but was stopped dead in his tracks. He had to grip the knob of the door to support him as a wave of dizziness washed over him, making his knees feel weak and his head spin as if he were drunk. He found his mind went to Ron, and all the things he would love to do with the young Gryffindor. If only Ron would agree to be his…

He blinked, trying to clear his head and pull his mind back to the present. Ron wasn't here. "Greg…?" he murmured, looking over.

"I tire of waiting. You are late to being here with me tonight." He growled, eyes narrow.

"Sorry; I had to get some homework done…"

Gregor seemed to move at an incredibly fast pace; he was up out of the chair and over to Blaise's side in a heartbeat. He kicked the door closed and seized the younger boy, pulling him in against his hard body and kissing him demandingly.

Blaise was almost breathless when he finally released him just enough to let him breathe, distracting him with constant kisses and caresses as he moved with him across the room. Blaise felt one of the poles behind him and Gregor seized his hands and placed them above his hands in cuffs.

"Greg…? What…?" Blaise asked, confused and totally muddled by the scent, stronger now that Gregor was next to him. "Where's Ron…?"

Gregor only smiled in a predatory way at him, more baring his teeth than any sort of a friendly overture. "It is time you are good to me. Time you let me do what I am truly wishing." He said, his hands running down Blaise's chest and lingering on the front of his slacks, stroking there. "You will seeing; you will be liking this…"

The younger boy pulled at the cuffs binding his wrists, confused. "Wait; I… I don't want…"

"I will be hearings no more arguings!" He snapped, forcing a ball gag into Blaise's mouth and strapping it into place on him. "You are being mine! You are being no one else's. You are mine!" he snarled, then took a deep breath to calm himself. He had this one precisely where he wanted him. "You will seeing; I am good master to good servant. You serve me, please me, and I am being very good to you."

Blaise stared at him, struggling but to no avail. His wand was not anywhere in reach and he couldn't do anything… no one would hear him this far from the castle.

He drew one finger along Blaise's cheek, his breath smelling heavily of whiskey. "You do not being good to me, you be not making me happy and I will be punishing you." He added. When Blaise did not respond to that he added a bit more; he knew this boy had passion for a certain Gryffindor. "And if you are being telling anyone; anyone at all. I will being punishing… Ron."

The reaction of fear and worry in Blaise's eyes let the older boy know he had struck a cord. "Oh, yes, dark one. I will chain him and beat him. And I will be having you watch, and tell him that you are why he is beings beaten. And I may be killing him if you tell anyone." He said in a dangerous tone.

Blaise closed his eyes and sagged slightly. He couldn't let this happen to Ron… he would do anything to keep him safe.

Gregor gestured with his wand and Blaise found himself naked in the cold room. The blonde chuckled softly, seeing that at least his aphrodisiac potion-laced cologne had had an undeniable effect on this lad even if it hadn't done a damned thing to Ron. Blaise was already painfully erect. "You are enjoyings this already." He grinned, stroking that hardness. "I cannot be doings this right, you are in school and must go to classes but I will teach you how to be good to me… right now I am wishing to be making love…" he pushed Blaise around and forced him up against the pole, fingers seeking his opening and probing at it. "Ah… there. Getting all ready for me, yes…?" he asked, untying the codpiece to show he himself was quite erect already.

Blaise whimpered, but tried not to flinch away or to fight. Gregor used his wand once more to lube himself up before he began to push his way inside Blaise's body. "Ahhhh yesss… you are nice around me…" he murmured in Blaise's ear, beginning to thrust, holding onto him tightly.

Blaise found himself back in the Great Hall hours later with little idea how he had gotten there. Time had blurred for him, the entire episode had a hazy dreamlike quality to it. He remembered that Gregor had bound him and… after that it all went hazy. He didn't recall much except sexual pleasure.

Mostly by habit he turned and made his way across the Hall to the stairs for the dungeons, slipping into the stairwell without any one seeing him. He heard footsteps and dodged behind a statue; he stayed hidden safely away while he watched the Hufflepuff prefects move by, chatting as they went. When they were gone he moved out, and hurried onward, reaching the entrance of the Slytherin common room without further mishap.

He kept his eyes averted as he walked through the common room; no one stopped him. Being Draco's best friend had its advantages, that was for sure. He hurried on until he reached the room that he and Draco shared. He shut the door behind himself and sighed softly, leaning on it, finally feeling safe.

Merlin, he just wanted to get clean. He felt filthy. He pushed off the door and moved to his personal bedroom, grabbing clothing and heading to the washroom. Memories began to sift in through the haze. He had been so aroused tonight, he had no idea why. He'd never reacted like that to anyone before… well, except for a certain redhead. He knew this was different.

Mechanically he went through the motions of showering as his mind fought to clear itself of the confusion. He found himself frozen in place when the memory of the threat, the danger to Ron, suddenly loomed in his mind. Gregor would hurt Ron.

He was caught, good and proper. Collared and leashed. He didn't dare hide from Gregor; he knew that Ron spent time with the Durmstrang boy almost daily. If he refused to meet him, if he resisted at all it would be disastrous. Ron's safety lay directly at his feet. He would be responsible for whatever Gregor did to Ron. He saw no way out; he could never break free until these damned Durmstrang left… then he would be safe and it could finally end.

He heard Draco come into their shared washroom as he was finishing up. The blonde set about getting his things set up for his nighttime ritual of washing and applying lotions and creams and balms. Blaise pulled on his sleeping pants in the privacy of the shower stall and moved out, giving his friend a wan grin.

"Hey Blaise…" Draco smiled at him, brushing out his hair.

"Hey." He answered, moving to the sink to do his teeth next. He did not engage in the kind of comfortable chatter that they usually fell to out of habit every night; he was silent as he applied himself to what he needed to get done before he went to bed.

"Blaise? Mate, are you all right?" Draco asked softly. It was vividly clear to him that something was terribly wrong with his best friend. "You've been awfully quiet…"

"Its… something I need to work through on my own. Really." He answered softly. "I can't… I just can't talk about it." He bent to splash water on his face. Now that someone had asked him, the instructions for his behavior implanted during that violent session of sex kicked into gear. He could not speak about what had happened. He should not, and he could not. "Let's just get ready for bed okay?"

Draco frowned, looking at him with concern. "What do you mean, you can't? We talk about everything, that's what being mates is." He said, not liking this at all.

"Well I just need to keep this to myself." Blaise answered, reaching for a towel. "Just for a while, okay…? I promise, it'll be all right."

Draco frowned softly. What the bloody hell could Blaise not talk to him about? They talked about every bloody thing under the sun before today, what could he possibly have to keep secret?

Blaise looked at him and smiled reassuringly; looking a lot more like his old self. "Really, Dray. I'm all right. This is just something I have to work my way through…" he said.

Reluctantly, Draco let it go, resolving to keep a closer eye on his best freind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.


	4. Hunting for Answers

Two days later was the first challenge of the Tri-Wizard cup. The danger that Harry endured was like a cold hard slap of reality to Ron. There was no way that his friend would ever have really desired to put himself in that much danger!

That evening, sitting down with Hermione and Harry and talking things through really helped Ron to come to grips with it all. By the time they put their heads on their pillows they had all decided that they had simply been asanine and it all needed to be left behind them. The Golden Trio had made amends, and as a result the three were actually closer than ever.

Ron woke early the next morning to a highly irritating noise; it sounded like a moth trying to get out of a paper bag or something… he roused enough to raise his head from the pillow, looking blearily at the window beside his bed. Pigwidgeon, his tiny owl, was almost battering himself against the window in an attempt to get inside.

"Geez, Weasley, would you let your stupid bird in already?" Seamus grumbled, pulling the blanket over his head. "It's the weekend and I ain't bloody well getting out of bed until I feel like it!"

"Oh quit whinging, for heaven's sake!" Ron grumbled, snatching up his wand off the bedside table. He flicked it and the window opened. Immediately Pigwidgeon zoomed into the room and Ron closed the window the moment the little owl was past the glass.

Harry sat up, stretching. "A little early for regular mail… you didn't do something stupid lately did you Ron?" he asked with a smirk.

"Very funny, Harry." Ron smirked back at him, watching his bird zip around. He hesitated, and then reached up to snatch at the owl, missing by several inches. "Come here, you insane little bird!" he said as he sat up, grabbing again and catching the tiny owl in his hand. "I swear you have to be the most irritating thing!" he grumbled, seeing that the owl had a message on his leg. The bird looked at him with its wide eyes, hooting eagerly. "Hm. Wonder who this is from…" he said, tugging the note free. He released the miniscule owl, which immediately began to zoom about Ron's bed then the entire room hooting happily and shrilly.

"Put that bloody bird out you inconsiderate git!" Seamus complained, snatching up his wand and using it to close his curtains.

Ron rolled his eyes and opened the window again, allowing another blast of cold air to come in as the bird zipped out of sight. He sat up and unrolled the note.

"What is it? I can see it isn't a howler, at least…" Harry commented with a smirk, sitting up, watching his friend's face curiously.

"Thank Merlin." Ron gave him a smirk, relaxing back on his pillows.

"Well I'm up now; I may as well grab a shower." Harry said, swinging his legs out of bed and reaching for his clothes. "Hey, let's get a team together and play some quidditch today." He suggested.

"Sounds good to me." Ron gave him a grin, and then turned his attention to the message, unrolling it. He recognized the handwriting immediately; it was Gregor.

My Good Friend Ron.

I am hoping to be seeing you again. I find you are good friend and is hard not to be talking to you.

Is very lonely here without friends with which to talk. I was a fool to try to make you be with me; I just grow desperate for contact. Since I am gone my lovers back home have found new lovers. I am alone and grow sadder by the day. I am wanting friendship is all.

If you are refusing to seeing me I am not seeing reasons for living.

Please.

Meet me once more. Answering me and tell me you will be meeting me.

The note wasn't signed but he knew it was from Gregor. Ron blinked and read through the message again, sitting up. Ptriov was threatening to kill himself…?

"Oo's it from?" Harry asked as he strolled over to the showers.

"Gregor." Ron answered.

Harry paused, looking back at him. "You going to go meet him again?" he asked curiously.

Ron hesitated; it would be nice to have support when he went to take this note to someone who could help. He had no choice; he had to take it to Karkaroff. He sighed and shook his head. "No… but I think I need to go talk to one of the teachers." He said, getting out of bed and pulling open his trunk.

"Want me to come?"

"Nah. I'll be back in less than an hour. Go ahead and get a couple of fellahs together and we can play after we eat." Ron assured him, getting dressed quickly.

Harry nodded and turned, going on to shower.

-.

(Readers – please consider the following conversation to be in Romanian; these two wouldn't be talking to one another in English)

Gregor stood on the deck of the Durmstrang ship, glaring up at the towers he knew housed the Gryffindor students. Where the bloody hell was that insanely hyper little owl? He had sent it up to Ron's rooms nearly an hour ago; he should have received an answer of some sort by now.

"You are wasting your time, Gregor." A deep voice said behind him. When he turned he saw Krum standing behind him. "Your message did not work; that redheaded boy will not be coming to see you."

He only smiled at him. "You really think you're all-knowing now, Viktor? Being a Tri-wizard champion has surely gone to your head." he commented snidely. "You wait and see; he will come. You are a fool to think you know it all."

"I tell you Miss Granger's friend will not be coming to see you. He is friends with her again, and friends with Potter again. He is happy here; you should let him alone."

"You couldn't control me at Durmstrang; I will not be controlled by you here!" he growled at him, his wand in hand.

Krum scowled at him. "Put your wand away, fool! Karkaroff should never have brought you here." He said quietly.

"He chose me to come because I have talents that could have been of value." He sneered.

"And you never bothered to enter the tournament!"

"I do not wish to compete; that Tri-Wizard competition is insane and will end with your death." He answered.

"You are getting out of hand for even Durmstrang. You must learn to control yourself or you will get killed for what you do."

"I will do what I will!" he snapped.

"And what if Karkaroff steps in?" he asked in a quiet, threatening tone, looking down his narrow nose at his schoolmate, his heavy brow lowered. "You will battle Karkaroff for this Hogwarts boy? He is not of age. You should not be…"

"Phaugh!" he spat in disgust. "You are a fool to try to talk me out of what I do! You are no different than I! You've spent days chasing that girl Granger about the castle and she is no older than Weasley!" he retorted.

That comment got the reaction from Krum that Ptriov had been looking for, anger and denial. "That's different; she's a woman…!"

"She is a girl!" he interrupted, refusing to listen. "You are doing the same thing I am!"

"No. I seek to make friends only. More may come, with time…"

"You're only looking for a friend." He repeated sourly. "Friendship for you requires sitting hours in a library watching the girl read?"

"She enjoys books. I enjoy her company."

"You hate reading." He sneered at him. "You bullied your way through classes!"

"This isn't about me and what I do!" he interrupted sharply. "You must not pursue that boy further!"

"Are you threatening me, Krum?"

"No. But Karkaroff will if he catches wind of all of this. Weasley was on his way here when he saw me in the hall. He stopped and talked to me; and he gave me this…" he held up the note that Gregor had sent up to Ron this morning.

"That is not your business!" Gregor snatched at it but Krum held it away, expecting just such a move.

The note vanished from sight inside Krum's robes somewhere. "Oh, no; I will be keeping this. And if anything happens to Weasley you can be sure that I will give this directly to Karkaroff." He said, glaring at him. "Weasley was concerned that you might kill yourself out of grief for your lost lovers. He wanted to be sure that someone watched over you. Quite a good friend, he is, even if you have surely scared him away with your predatory behavior."

Gregor glared at him, slapping his wand back into its holster at his side. "Yes. Some wonderful friend Ron is, taking a note that was personal to a backstabbing two-faced bastard like you. He trusts you to watch me and ensure I will not kill myself but you will take that girl he loves from him. She is all he talks about, Viktor, and you will destroy his life surely as if I had my way with him. You have every intention of stealing her away from him. He will be unable to do anything about it."

"If that happens it will be Hermione's choice." He answered coldly. "But you will leave Weasley alone."

Realizing it would be dangerous to him to continue further, he turned his face away. "I will meet him only in public places. Does this make you happy?"

"How public?"

"Very public. The meal hall, or places with more than ten students. Will this make you happy?"

"It will do, for now." Krum took a step back, clearly not wishing to turn his back on this boy.

Gregor returned to glowering at the tower again, pointedly ignoring Viktor. If he gave him no more attention he would go away; that was one habit that Krum had developed over the years. Viktor loved attention and if you didn't give it he would tire and leave. It worked; Krum had glared at him for several more minutes, then had turned on one heel and walked off.

Gregor stood silently for a few minutes, considering his options. It clearly wasn't safe to pursue the redhead any longer. The boy had been so tempting due to the fact that he even had admitted himself that he was an untouched virgin at that point. He had not even been with that fluffy-haired bitch that he fancied. He had never expected Weasley to take his letter to anyone, much less Krum or Karkaroff. And he knew that Viktor would keep his word and take the letter to the headmaster.

He spat a curse and pushed away from the rail, turning. Mikeal had been right; he had tried to warn Gregor in the beginning not to pursue the Gryffindors here but he had taken it as a challenge. Well, at least he still had the dark-skinned Slytherin boy. He had to keep up the impression somehow that he was still seeing the Weasley boy, to keep this little toy under his thumb.

-.

Blaise stepped inside the building and closed the door quickly behind him. No one had followed him, he had made absolutely sure of that. He was struck once more by the hypnotic smell that had stunned him that first time, feeling dizzy and rather confused again. He hesitated, looking around; the dungeon remained. Merlin help him…

"You're late." Gregor growled, standing just to his right.

He jumped at the tone and closeness of the voice; he hadn't even seen the seventeen year old at all. "Sorry, Gregor; I had to…"

"No! You will being calling me Master! You will be calling me nothings else when we are being alone!" He snarled.

Blaise reflexively reached for his wand and found it was gone; Gregor had already taken it away from him. "All right…" he agreed in a whisper, his mind fogging over quickly.

Gregor looked into the eyes of the boy and grinned wolfishly. It was clear that he was well under the influence of the aphrodesiacs. Very sensitive, this one was. Perhaps he could even become addicted to them; he loved it when his little slaves were addicted. Controlling them was so easy.

Blaise slipped into his rooms past midnight, his whole body aching. He remembered more tonight; last time it was just a vague memory of pain and lots of pleasure… this time had been different. His hands shook as he uncorked the healing potion and downed the entire bottle in a single draught. He leaned on the door, feeling his back tingling and burning like his nerves were afire.

Gregor had used the cat-o-nine tails on him tonight; the leather straps had left welts all across his back. Blaise shuddered as the sensation swept over him and he felt he could finally stand again. He had been a poor servant to his master tonight. He had earned his punishment; he had to learn the rules. He had been late to his meeting with his new master. He had disappointed Gregor and he had called him by his name instead of Master. He was learning to obey the rules, but sometimes he forgot himself and spoke out of turn… He had spent nearly two hours suspended from the ceiling, bound tightly with ropes.

Gregor had not only treated him with cruelty, he had put a soothing balm on the injuries and then… what had followed was a complete blur of exquisite pleasure, during which he had almost believed that it had been Ron with him.

He straightened from the wall, his hands shaking slightly. He only felt weak now. He needed to sleep. It would be okay; he was protecting Ron. He hadn't seen the redhead in over a week now, not that he was looking for him. He was keeping Gregor distracted and Ron would be safe from his attention.

That was all that truly mattered even if Ron never even knew that he had done this for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

Draco stalked into the library, hoping to catch a glimpse of Blaise. He hadn't been able to spend more than ten minutes with his fellow Slytherin in the past three weeks and his temper was being stretched to the limit. If he did not have someone to talk to he kept everything bottled up inside and he was about ready to explode at the next person who got on his nerves no matter who they were. He prowled the through the book-lined aisles library, eyes narrow, in a right foul mood because he was not getting anything that he wanted or needed.

A conversation on the other side of a bookshelf stopped him in his tracks. He'd heard Blaise's name. He snatched up a book and moved around to lean on the end cap of the bookshelf, pretending to read as he eavesdropped.

"Yes, Blaise Zabini. Have you heard what's going on with him…?" four girls sat together at a table; two Hufflepuffs; one blonde and one dark haired, a Ravenclaw who had brown hair, and a first year Slytherin girl with white-gold hair in a thick braid. The first speaker was one of the Hufflepuffs, the one with short brown hair.

"You know no one tells me anything." The Ravenclaw pouted, leaning forward to listen to the hushed discussion.

"And you do nothing but whine about it, Cori. Come on, Susan, tell us what you know." the other Hufflepuffs asked, looking eager for gossip.

"He's seeing one of the Durmstrang boys, a seventh year. You know; the tall blonde one who was second in line when they came in to the great hall? The one who always wears those sexy dragon-hide boots?"

"Seriously? Merlin! Those boys are so good-looking!"

"I think I know which one you're talking about, his name is Gregor. No wonder he acts so distant all the time. He doesn't give any of the girls a second glance. Guess we know why now. So what do you know?" the other girl prompted.

"He's been saying all kinds of things, talking to the other seventh years. I heard him in the Great Hall the other day; it sounded like he was bragging almost. He says that Blaise went to him first, looking for an older partner…"

"Blaise? I would never have thought…" the Slytherin girl began.

"Well Blaise hasn't denied it, has he?" Susan demanded, looking at her.

"Blaise hasn't really said much of anything, lately." She admitted in a quiet tone, frowning.

"And that boy says that Blaise looked for an older lover because he wanted things he couldn't get from another fourth year. He likes things rough, you know what I mean…?" she waggled her eyebrows at them.

The Ravenclaw girl looked shocked. "Rough…? You mean like, whips and chains and things? M and M's…?"

The other girls at the table burst into giggles, held down to keep from raising the ire of Madame Pince. "Not M&M's you little twit. I swear, you're the most sheltered girl I ever met, Cornithia!" Susan snickered.

"Well how am I supposed to know what it's called…?" she defended, blushing hotly.

"You're a Ravenclaw, you're supposed to know everything…" the second Hufflepuff named Mary giggled.

"Potions and runes and bookwork, yes; but I don't study SEX, Mary!" she retorted, cheeks flushed.

Susan leaned forward on the table with a grin. "It's called S&M, Cori. Sadism and Masochism. You ought to look it up; you'll certainly learn a lot." She commented, and then her grin grew. "Maybe it's what you're really into; if you find out more about it maybe you'll start being more interested in guys…"

"Oh stop it Susan!" The other Hufflepuff rolled her eyes as the Ravenclaw looked ready to explode with a retort. "Don't listen to her, Cornithia, seriously! She just wants to get you going so she can get you in trouble and she can have more to gab about." She soothed, one hand resting on the hand of the Ravenclaw girl.

Corinthia scowled but closed her mouth, her lips thin as she glared at Susan, who was positively alight with happiness at getting someone riled up.

"Oh come on Susan, knock it off already!" Mary hissed at her. "Spill what you know already and quit messing with her!"

Susan made a face at her and leaned forward to whisper what she considered to be juicy gossip. "Every day right after classes Blaise goes out into the grounds. Several students have tried to follow him but Blaise always shakes them. Even the Prefects haven't been able to follow him. No one knows where he really goes. I know where he's going though; he's sneaking out to meet with that Durmstrang boy. He really must be taken by him."

"But those boys are all seventeen…!"

"Doesn't matter to Blaise, I suppose." She shrugged.

"Those Durmstrang boys are cute and all, but I don't know about going THAT far with one of them… after all, the ones they brought to compete in the Triwizard Tournament are really strong, and they know a lot more dark spells than we do, that's for sure."

"Well he is a Slytherin; they do tend to be attracted to people of power…" the second almost snorted.

Draco thought he was going to have to come around the corner and teach these girls a bit of respect for Slytherin, especially that first year from his own house. He glanced at them again to get a good look at the Slytherin girl; his lips curling in a snarl. He knew her, Aurelia Woodward was her name and he certainly was going to give her a lesson in respect; then the girl finally spoke up.

Her voice was a slow, thoughtful drawl. "That really doesn't make any sense at all. Why would Blaise need to go looking for anyone with power? He's Draco Malfoy's best friend." The first year Slytherin asked, frowning at the dark-haired Hufflepuff girl.

"So?" the Hufflepuff named Susan huffed, irritated about her story being interrupted. The gossip was so juicy she didn't want anyone saying that it was less interesting because of some silly argument about whether or not Blaise would do such a thing.

"So he has all the power he could ask for here, except if he was the Prince himself." Aurelia retorted. Draco made a mental note to reward that girl somehow for defending Blaise and standing up for her house. "It doesn't make any sense. He has everything he can want in Slytherin house. He doesn't have to go hunting for power."

Susan saw her opportunity and jumped on her chance to exploit it. "Come on, you can't really believe that. Come on, even you said he's barely said a word to anyone lately. Think about it; he's been ignoring all of you now, hasn't he?"

The Slytherin girl pouted a bit at that statement; she clearly must have been one of the ones that Blaise had taken a particular interest in. "Yes, he has." she said reluctantly. "He hardly says a word to anyone anymore. This morning he acted like he didn't even see me even though I called his name three times. But he is busy and he doesn't have to answer to anyone but Draco. After all, I'm only a first year."

"Everyone knows Blaise is more into guys than girls anyway." Mary shrugged. "We've all known that since second year and that little incident with Seamus Finnegan."

"Seamus says that was nothing but a rumor…" Susan put in, "But we all know it really happened. Why would the teachers lie about finding the two of them in the trophy room?"

"Seamus' dad is about as homophobic as they come." The Ravenclaw said, rolling her eyes. "And he's a pureblood lover to boot."

"This isn't about Seamus, anyway. It's about Blaise. He stays out far past curfew too." The blonde Hufflepuff said in a gossiping tone. "I've spotted him coming into the great hall when I was doing my Prefect duties. Night before last it was nearly two in the morning when he came in. But I can tell you he didn't look himself…"

"What does that mean?" Corinthia asked.

"He was walking strange, like he was under a trance or something. I was at the top of the stairs when I saw him…"

"At least a hundred feet away from him in a DARK grand entryway and you THINK he was in a trance?" Mary asked, frowning.

"Doesn't sound like you got a good look at all." The Slytherin commented wryly.

"I got a good enough look! He was walking kind of stilted, like he was in pain…"

"I thought you said he was in a trance." Mary countered.

"Oh do shut up, Mary." Susan scowled. "Come on, what do you expect if you like to play sex games? Someone is bound to get hurt."

The Slytherin girl frowned, clearly getting irritated, her voice rising a notch. "He looked fine in class yesterday. Did his work, didn't talk much but there aren't any marks on him…"

"Not that we can see. But who knows what he's hiding under his clothes? I hear that those people who play those games know how to leave a mark that no one will see in the daytime." Susan went on.

The Slytherin girl got to her feet, looking angered. "I think that's getting a little too personal, I don't care if it's just gossip."

"Its not just gossip!"

"It is, and its not right to make things up like that. You don't know what his sex life is like; just because some Durmstrang says he's doing things with Blaise doesn't make it any more true than when they said YOU were going out with Millicent Bulstrode!" she retorted.

"That was a blatant lie!"

"Well Blaise's life is his own and you really ought to leave him be. I'm not going to listen to another word you say about him!"

"Oh come off your high Hippogriff already. You're just angry because he's a Slytherin…"

"No, I'm angry because I like Blaise. He might not be paying me any attention right now but he's never said a cruel word and he's never done me a bad turn. You think you know all about him and its okay to say whatever you want because of our house but we aren't all evil you know." She said, eyes narrow. "And he's a nice guy; you don't even know him at all!"

"Sh!" Madame Pince hissed at them; Aurelia's last outburst was anything but quiet and she had brought the wrath of the school librarian down on them all.

"Don't worry about me, I'm leaving." Aurelia said, giving Susan a look of disgust.

"Aurelia, hold on, I'm coming with you." Corinthia said, rising and pushing her books into her bag. "I don't think I care to listen to the gossip any more anyway. I'd rather study with you."

"Out of my library!" Madame Pince ordered.

Draco watched as the girls hurried out of the library and on their way. He stood in silence, still leaning on the end cap. Madame Pince glanced at him with narrowed eyes but he simply ignored her. She huffed and moved off, giving him a scowl as she moved away. So Blaise was seeing a Durmstrang, and according to those airhead gossiping Hufflepuffs that person was a seventh year and was not anything that Blaise had ever mentioned an interest in. Gads, all he ever did was talk about that friend of Potter's, that Weasley boy. This wasn't a surprise to him, Blaise had told him he was talking to that Gregor character about a month ago. Gregor had said that he would introduce Blaise to the red-haired Weasel; he had assumed that it had happened and he was seeing the other fourth year, but clearly no such thing had happened.

He turned and stalked out of the library. He was going to get some answers, even if he had to beat them out of the Weasel himself.


	5. Pinning the Weasel

"Weasley!" Draco called out; spotting Ronald's red head as he was coming up the stairs.

Ron looked up and scowled; he didn't want anything to do with a Malfoy today at all. Talking with Malfoy would definitely ruin the great day he had been having. He paused, glanced about and clearly chose a direction as he trotted back down the stairs and hurrying toward another hallway.

"Thickheaded idiot, I only want to talk to you!" Draco growled, irritated by the redheaded boy's avoidance of him. Merlin, he only wanted to talk to him. He picked up his pace, nearly tripping as he reached the landing. He recovered with a curse and rounded the end of the hall just in time to see Ron slipping out the door at the center of the hallway that led to one of the outside courtyards. "Weasley!" he called out as he hurried after him. He seized the door and yanked it open, his wand in his hand. He'd had enough of cat and mouse; it was time to get this fool to talk.

He'd nearly caught him on the other side of the courtyard; he cast a simple sticking spell on the ground just ahead of Weasley.

Ron's left foot just caught the edge of it and he fell just outside the doorway. "Finite incantatum!" he instantly said and was released, scrambling to his feet just before Draco neared.

"Stop, you bloody idiot!" Draco snarled, throwing the spell again but the Gryffindor simply avoided it. They had exited the castle and Draco had had enough. He threw a petrification spell but the Weasel dodged that too, then suddenly whirled to stand his ground.

"Stupefy!"

"Protego!" the blonde said an instant before; the spell cast by the Gryffindor rebounded at such close range, hitting him instead. "Damn!" Draco grumbled, moving forward to stand over his stunned year mate. He paused a moment in thought, then used his wand to raise Ron from the ground and lean him up against a tree. "Look. I know you can hear me, and I swear I'll beat the hell out of you if I have to. I just want some answers. So don't be a typically idiotic ass and start doing stupid shit again. Understand?" he asked, taking Ron's fallen wand and slipping it back into Ron's wand pocket on his jeans. He took a deep breath, and then pointed his wand at Ron once more. "Finite Incantatum." He stated.

He prepared himself to set off in pursuit again but to his relief the Gryffindor stayed where he had been put, just pushed himself into a more comfortable position. "Since when do you want to talk to any Gryffindor?" he asked.

Draco sighed. "When it involves someone I care about I do. This certainly isn't my first choice."

"I can't promise I'll answer what you want, but I guess you can ask." Ron said guardedly.

"I've seen you hanging around that Durmstrang bloke…"

Ron's expression changed and the expressions on the redhead's face spoke volumes. First confusion, then a bit of anger. "I'm not going to be anywhere near him anytime soon."

"Why?" Draco asked.

"Just… I don't know." Ron shrugged. "I just don't."

"What's his name? What is it he asks you to do, Weasley?"

"His name is Gregor Ptriov. He didn't ask me to do anything we just talked, mostly about quidditch…"

"Then why does just bringing him up make you angry?" Draco asked.

Ron started to answer, then closed his mouth, looking thoughtful. "I guess its how weird he acted last time I saw him." He said quietly. "He sent me a note saying he was going to commit suicide or something if I didn't see him again. It didn't make any sense, we were just pals, not anything more."

"He was going to commit suicide?"

"He didn't quite say it, but that's the idea I got."

"I can't believe a Gryffindor didn't do anything about that."

Ron sighed. "I felt like someone else could handle it better. I asked Krum to talk to him. Must have worked, nothing has happened. No Durmstrang has died yet."

Draco frowned thoughtfully, thinking of all he had heard in the library, putting it all together. "So he turned to Blaise when you were too damned dense to figure things out." He murmured.

"What…?" Ron asked, frowning. "Figure what out?"

Draco stepped away from him. "Forget it. Obviously you're as clueless about this as you were about what that seventh year was trying to do." He said dismissively.

Ron was more confused than ever. "You're not making any sense, Malfoy."

He snorted at that. "And people wonder why you can't figure out potions. I'm amazed you can even cast a decent spell." He said with a bit of a sneer, moving off.


	6. You Always Hurt the Ones You Love

-.

Blaise pulled his shirt on and buttoned it quickly; he had to hurry. Classes were over for the day and his Master would be waiting. He pulled his bedroom door open and headed across the sitting room toward the door for the hall.

"Leaving again, Blaise?" a soft voice asked quietly.

He almost stumbled but halted, turning to see Draco sitting on the divan, feet propped up. He had clearly been waiting for Blaise to come out. "Um, yeah. I have… business to do."

"We need to talk, my friend." He said, straightening up.

Blaise swallowed nervously. He had to go, if he was late he would be punished again. "Talk? About what?"

"About what the bloody hell is going on with my best mate." He said, scowling. "I haven't seen you outside school for more than an hour a week and its making me insane, Blaise." He growled.

"Sorry, Dray, I just… I don't have any time lately."

"I have noticed." He said quietly, studying his friend. He looked thin, and paler than normal. "Are you going to make it to quidditch practice this evening?"

"We have one tonight?" Blaise asked distractedly. "I… I forgot. I've got a… a study group, its been planned for days…" he said, not meeting Draco's eyes. "I'll see if I can get out of it."

"Studying what?"

"Oh, um… charms." He answered. That Draco could believe, his friend had always had a bit of trouble in charms, though he was good in many other subjects.

Draco frowned. "I can help you with that." He said.

"Can we talk about this later?" Blaise said, clearly impatient to leave.

"As long as you can swear that you will schedule me into your busy life. I need you Blaise; I need someone to talk to, you know that…"

"I know; I'm sorry. I'll try to be back early tonight, and see if I can get free tomorrow. Okay…?" he asked, stepping back toward the door.

"No, its not okay. Damn it Blaise…!" Draco rose to his feet.

"Draco, I can't. I have to go." He said apologetically just before he fled out the door.

Draco shoved himself to his feet and immediately started after him; he slowed once he exited his room, though. Blaise had not wanted to talk to him… something was horribly wrong and he had to find out what the bloody buggering hell was going on!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

Gregor relaxed against the stone pillar of the covered bridge over the gorge. His toy should be here in the next twenty minutes or so; it was time for another lesson. As it was the end of the week, he would have a full weekend to play with his slave and he was really looking forward to it.

Krum had been staying out of his life, which was just fine. The last time he had approached him was with that stupid letter. Who would have ever imagined that Weasley would go to Krum, the one who was courting the girl that he was clearly in love with? At least he had not gone to Karkaroff; that would have ruined everything. As it stood he did not have the little virgin to play with, but he was satisfied with the little slave he had captured. He was satisfied, for the moment. He had learned a bit about his slave's background; he might even be able to convince the boy to ask for a transfer to Durmstrang. He would make a very nice addition to his little harem; he might even make the two he had left behind into slaves for this one, as he was very obedient.

He was busy mulling over the power levels in his harem of sexual slaves and did not notice someone moving up to him.

"Ptriov." A voice spoke next to him.

He looked to see Ron Weasley standing a few feet away from him. He put on a neutral expression; he did not want to start anything that would ruin his current situation. Ron was the last person he wanted to chat with today. "Weasley." He said in acknowledgement.

"Hey, um..." Ron started awkwardly. He had no idea what to ask. "You okay?"

"Yes, am fine. You were giving my private note to Krum. Was not written to give to anyone, Weasley." His tone was cool and accusatory.

Ron fidgeted, staring down at his feet. "I couldn't do anything to help you. I had no idea what to do, I thought surely Krum could help you get things figured out." He looked up at the slightly taller seventeen-year-old. "I can see it worked, you're fine."

Gregor had to bite his tongue on the answer he wanted to give. Damn you, Ronald Weasley, he thought. He made no effort to lean closer to the Gryffindor who had already proven that he could resist his pheromone laden cologne without even realizing it. He could not keep the frown off his face. "Am fine, yes. But still needing comforts which you are not man enough to give."

Ron sighed softly. "I just… I don't know what you want I guess."

"I could be showings you but not now. Time is passed for us to be sharings." He said. "Krum and I spoke and we understand each other. You are not wanting me as friend, I am understanding that too." He said cooly, scowling now. What the bloody hell did this little virgin want of him? He was going to be in a lot of trouble if anyone saw them alone out here. "What is it you are wanting?"

"I… well, you see Draco Malfoy was asking if I knew you. Are… I mean… do you…?"

"Who is this Malfoy?" he scowled.

"He's a Slytherin, and usually a royal pain in the arse but he was asking…" Ron wasn't sure what Draco had even been asking about, but something had definitely been wrong.

"You should not be talking to me, Ronald Weasley." What I do is not business of anyone not my friends." He growled, growing irritated. He stood away from the rail. "You have no business askings me anything."

Ron hesitated. "I didn't… I mean…"

"You will be goings away, Weasley." He growled, eyes narrowing. "Go away and do not be looking for me again. You are too much trouble for me to be bothering with."

Ron took a step back; he could almost feel the anger of the older Durmstrang boy. "Sure. Whatever you say." He said, taking several more steps away.

Gregor glared after him, his mind working furiously. Another one of the Hogwarts boys was asking questions? That was not good for him at all; he had to find a way to get them to all leave him and his little slave alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

Blaise stepped onto the long bridge and froze for a long moment. He could see Gregor, exactly where he said that he would be awaiting Blaise that evening. But standing beside him, TALKING to him was Ron. His heart skipped a beat and he finally caught his breath again, more fear filling his heart than he had ever felt. Gregor was still friends with Ron…? He could still pull him in. Merlin, would there ever be an end to all of this…? If Gregor forced him to ever do anything to Ron like Blaise had endured the past several weeks, he would never be able to do it. He would rather die.

His body went into motion once more and he found himself dazed as he continued down the hallway. The most wonderful thing he had ever witnessed in his life occurred when Ron backed away from Gregor and moved quickly off the other end of the bridge. Gregor stared after him then, arms folded, leaned back on the rail with a scowl upon his face.

Blaise could bear it if Ron was safe… if only he would remain safe. He hurried forward, silent until he was within quiet speaking distance. "Master?" he asked softly.

Gregor did not respond immediately. Blaise did not dare touch him or speak again; he'd been punished too many times for doing just that. Finally Gregor looked at him, his eyes narrow and calculating. "I'm going to give you a gift, little slave." He said quietly.

Blaise felt his heart drop. "A… gift, master?"

"Yes. You get a choice." He said, unfolding his arms and straightening.

"What is that choice, master?" he asked timidly.

"The choice I think you will prefer is to tell your little friend Weasley to back the bloody hell off. He is never to be bothering you, or me, again."

He looked up at him confused. "What is the other choice?" he asked softly, fear clutching at his chest, making it hard to breathe.

"If you do nothing, little slave, is simple." He said, now beginning to smile a wolfish, highly predatory grin. "Your friend will be the main guest at our next training session. And the pain you have felt from this point is nothing compared to what I will be doing to him. You will be watching – and helping – me to train him to be licking my boots and servicing me when I am demanding it of him." He leaned in as he spoke, so no one passing them on the bridge would hear anything he said. He watched Blaise and his grin grew when he saw the teenager pale. "Oh, yes, it will being delicious to train him…"

Blaise felt all the blood drain out of his face and he bowed his head. He knew what he was being told to do. "I will take care of it immediately, master." He murmured in a faint tone.

"Do that. I will being watching you, to making sure you do what you say you will being doing. If you are not doing this, your little yearmate will disappear."

He nodded numbly. He had to go and find Ron.

"Good. I am giving you tonight to be doing this. Tomorrow you will meeting me here, by ten, yes?"

"Yes, master." He said softly.

"Good. Go now, taking care of this." He commanded, releasing Blaise from his company. The fourth year turned and hurried away, following in the path of Ronald Weasley. Gregor followed after as well, at a much more leisurely pace. He planned to watch this and thoroughly enjoy himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.

Blaise found himself wandering the castle looking for Ron. He was not, as he usually was, with the other two members of the 'golden trio.' Asking about gave him the information that Hermione and Harry were in the tower, but Ron had yet to go where he could not be reached. It was Neville who finally pointed him in the right direction.

He moved to the edge of the archway of the east courtyard, pausing a moment. Ron was there, just where he had been told. He was seated on a bench in a corner of the courtyard, clearly quite involved in his book and ignoring the deepening chill in the air. He took a moment to take in the view. This was going to be the hardest thing that he had ever done.

He had fallen in love with the redheaded boy the moment he first saw him. He had never approached him because they were, of course, too young at eleven years old. Now that they were fifteen and their houses were so diametrically opposed, it wasn't even possible to voice his feelings.

And now, he had to tell him off. If he did this right, how he must, the redhead would likely never want to speak with him again. He took a shaky breath, trying to build up his resolve. He had to do this. Had to say the words that would make Ron hate him and avoid him from here on out.

He steeled himself and stepped forward into the cool sunlight, striding across the open area.

Ron didn't seem to notice him at all until he was almost at his side. He looked up from his book with a curious expression. He wasn't sure what the name of this Slytherin was, but he knew he had shared several classes with him. "Um… can I help you?" he asked in an unsure tone.

The simple, open expression on Ron's face almost disarmed Blaise. Merlin, he loved him so much. Perhaps he should just tell him how he felt; but no. Ron's aversion to same-sex relationships had been made very clear to one and all, and he didn't even seem to notice anyone except for Hermione. He had no choice, he had to do this; shove him away from him forever. "Gregor tells me you've been snooping around."

Ron's expression clouded. "Snooping? What? I wasn't snooping." He said defensively.

"You were prowling about and asking questions about things that are bloody well none of your business." He growled, his eyes narrow. He had to ensure that he was driving Ron away.

Ron scowled now, sliding away a bit on the bench and coming to his feet. "What I do isn't your business either, Blaine."

The darkskinned boy curled up his lip in a disgusted expression. "You've had classes with me for years and you don't even know my name is Blaise?" he asked sourly. "That's fine; to the likes of you its Zabini anyway."

"Why the bloody hells are you worried about what I do anyway?" Ron asked, slapping his book on quidditch teams closed and dropping it into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. "You've got no right to come at me like that!"

Blaise had his mind focused on his mother, and how she would react to anyone that she thought was below her station and status in life. He drew himself up, looking down his nose at Ron; the image of haughty pride and arrogance. "Don't I?" he answered. "I'm a pureblood wizard from a neutral family with ten generations of pureblood wizards and witches, not a squib among them."

Ron glared. "My family is as pure as yours, Zabini."

"Your family, Weasley, is nothing but an over-bred bunch of jumped-up blood traitors!" he sneered.

"Then why the bloody hell are you wasting your time talking to me?" he demanded, though it was very clear by his expression that he was hurt by Blaise's words.

"Because you're the fool whose gone nosing about into things that are none of your affair. Snooping about where you don't belong, in my business, is going to get you hurt, very badly."

"Sounds like you're threatening me!" Ron said, stepping back.

"No, just telling you what will happen if you don't stay out of the business of your betters, you nasty little wranger."

Ron glared at him, deeply offended by the insult. "Go to bloody hell, Zabini." He growled, turning and stalking away.

Blaise watched him go, his heart sinking. He had succeeded. Ron would likely never talk to him again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~.


	7. Venting

Harry was sitting in the common room, his books out on the table beside him on the table. He had one in his lap and open, but he was more interested at the moment in simply watching the fire, wondering what Sirius was up to right now and dreaming of the day that he could someday move in with his godfather.

He was startled out of his reverie when someone slammed their way through the fat lady's portrait.

"Do use some care! I am an important work of art!" the fat lady cried out in protest as she drifted shut once more.

"Like I care." Ron snarled, stalking into the common room. He didn't even slow down, stomping directly up the stairs toward the boy's dormitories.

Harry cast his book onto the pile with the others and pushed himself to his feet to follow his friend; something for sure had gone wrong and he wanted to know what. He was halfway up the stairs when Neville came hurrying down, looking a bit pale. "Neville, what…?"

"Ron's really mad. Won't talk, just snarled at me to get the bloody hell out so he could think." Neville answered, hesitating only long enough to answer before he hurried on down.

The dark-haired boy hurried up the rest of the stairs and opened the door of the dormitory that the five teenagers shared. Ron was there all right, snarling softly under his breath, his hair looking like he'd run his hands through it at least twice which gave him a frazzled look. He glared at Harry a moment but that look gentled only slightly upon recognition of him before he began to pace once more.

"Ron, what happened?"

"I'm having a bloody stupid ridiculous day!" he growled, kicking his shoes off violently. One slapped itself under his bed and slid under there; the other flew into the air and landed on top of Neville's curtain frame. "Bloody well figures…!" he growled, turning his back on it.

Harry levitated the shoe low enough to grab, and then tossed it under the bed as well. "All right, Ron. Tell me what's going on."

Ron glanced at him, and then took a deep breath. He knew that Harry only had his friendship and his best interests in mind. And maybe he'd even have some idea of something he could do. He collapsed to a seat on his bed. "Something's… I mean… bloody hell, Harry, I don't even know where to start!"

"How about the beginning?" Harry suggested, pulling up a chair to sit facing his best friend.

Ron hesitated, then hung his head. "Okay, I guess… I told you about Gregor and all that, right?"

"Yeah, how he was your friend and then he started acting weird…?" Harry told the background briefly that he knew.

"Boy did he ever. I really didn't understand what the hells he wanted. I just wanted someone to talk to because… well, I was being an idjit about you and the Tri-Wizard Cup…"

"Yes, you certainly were." Harry agreed.

Ron gave him a glare. "Don't rub it in, I said I was sorry." He retorted.

"Sorry, mate. So this has something to do with Gregor?"

"Yeah. He gave me a note saying he had to see me and kind of said that he was going to kill himself if I didn't start seeing him again."

"What…?" Harry murmured, surprised. He'd heard those fellows from Drumstrang had been chosen specifically for the Tri-Wizard contest, so all of them should be strong and self-assured; certainly not prone to suicide.

"Yeah, it kind of freaked me out too. So I went to Krum…"

"Krum? But I thought you couldn't stand him anymore."

"I can't, really, but I figured even if Krum is a pure ass and a pumpkin-head, he might know what to do about his classmate. I considered talking to Karkaroff but that guy gives me the willies."

"I can understand that." Harry said, giving a slight shiver. Karkaroff with his intense eyes, snarling voice and broken stained teeth had always given him the creeps.

"That's what Malfoy asked me about when he cornered me…"

Harry blinked, surprised. Ron hadn't said anything about Malfoy attacking him, and he clearly had not been injured that he had noticed. "Malfoy…? When did he get involved in all of this?"

"About a week ago, I got pinned down by Malfoy..."

"What…?"

"Yeah, he chased me down the bloody stairs and halfway across the castle grounds before I turned to face him."

"That dirty little…"

"It's okay, Harry… I have no idea why, but he didn't do anything. He didn't hurt me or even hex me at all. He didn't have Goyle or Crabbe with him and all he wanted to do was talk to me about Ptriov. He asked about the note and then he said something about Zabini. I really don't know what the bloody hell he was talking about."

"He was asking about Zabini? I thought he and Blaise were best mates, like you and me are. I wonder what's going on if Malfoy doesn't know what's going on in his friend's life…"

"I don't know, but I was kind of worried. I went to go find Ptriov then to see if maybe I could find something out. I told him Malfoy had been asking questions and Ptriov told me to bugger off. He said we had nothing to talk about and I shouldn't be around him anymore, so I left it at that…"

"When was that?"

"This morning. I went to go sit and enjoy the sunshine this afternoon – its so nice out – and Zabini came down on me like a ton of bricks. Called me a wranger and told me to stay out of the business of my betters. I was completely humiliated; I haven't even spoken to him in months and he comes at me like I did something wrong.

"Something has to be going on…" Harry said softly, frowning.

"I really don't care what the bloody hells is going on anymore. I just want the lot of them to leave me out of it!" Ron growled, yanking off his socks. "I'm done with the lot of them."

"I understand." Harry sat back in the chair, thoughtful and bothered quite a bit. Something wasn't adding up. Malfoy was searching for his best mate? That meant that Blaise had been avoiding him. The fact that Draco had asked Ron about Ptriov meant that he suspected something was going on there, that all the rumors were true. Everyone in the castle had seen Blaise around the Durmstrang boy, but no one really knew anything. The two had conversations in public places but were never seen going anywhere together. Harry pushed to his feet and nudged the chair back into place.

Something was wrong; something was terribly wrong. He had nothing to go on besides his friend's outrage and a suspicion, but in his experiences his hunches were rarely wrong. Call it a need to be a hero, call it a need to help others; he didn't care. He needed to find out if his hunch was right or not. He glanced at Ron, who had stalked off to the bathroom, still angry but calming down. He knew Ron wasn't going to be too keen to do anything, angry as he was. He would need to check this out on his own. If he found out what he was thinking was rue, he would get his friends to help him.

Ron stuck his head out of the washroom to see Harry putting on his shoes. "Oy, where you goin?" he asked.

"I left my books downstairs, and I need to go check on Hedwig. I haven't visited her in days and she's liable to take off my finger if I keep ignoring her." He explained easily with a smirk. It was true, after all…

"Ugh. Throw something at Pigwidgeon while you're there, okay?"

"I'll give her a treat too." Harry laughed, heading for the door.


End file.
